"It is at the Glenville, an aristocratic family hotel on the terrace. She is a Mrs. Jamieson." "Do you know her?" "She sent for me once to prescribe for some small ailment not long ago." "Has she been summoned?" [Pg 72] [Pg 72] "She will be." "If there was any one in the woods, or approaching the mound by the road from the south, she should have seen them, or him; even a boat might have been seen through the trees for some distance southward, could it not?" "Yes. For two miles from the town the lake is visible from the wood road. Ah! here comes Doran and our constable." For half an hour the doctor was busy with Doran, the constable, and a number of other men who had or wished to have some small part to play in this second act of the tragedy, the end of which no one could foresee. Then, having dispatched them on their various missions, the doctor set out to inquire after the welfare of Hilda Grant; and Robert Brierly, who could not endure his suspense and sorrow in complete inaction, asked permission to accompany him, thus leaving the detective, who was quite in the mood for a little solitude just then, in possession of the porch, three wicker chairs and his cigar. But not for long. Before he had smoked and wrinkled his brows, as was his habit when things were not developing to his liking, and pondered ten minutes alone, he heard the click of the front gate, and turned in his chair to see a lady, petite, graceful, and dressed in[Pg 73] mourning, coming toward him with quick, light steps. She was looking straight at him as she came, but as he rose at her approach, she stopped short, and standing a few steps from the porch, said crisply— [Pg 73] "Your pardon. I have made a mistake. I am looking for Doctor Barnes." "He has gone out for a short time only. Will you be seated, madam, and wait?" She advanced a step and stopped irresolute.
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